Summit of Mount Blanc. F 
sun from the glistening snowalmost prevented us from seeing 
our path, the least deviation from which would have been 
inevitable death. Part of one of the avalanches that threat- 
ened us in our ascent, had already fallen and lay scattered 
over our path and the part that yet hung suspended above 
us seemed ready to follow its fallen half. Dreadful indeed 
was the silence in which, with hurried step, we hastened 
down the sidehill—F earing to raise a look from the path- 
way, and scarcely daring to breathe, we arrived near the 
bottom. ‘The danger being now past, we turned to survey 
the hanging mass;—the eye was soon satisfied—and in 
speechless meditation we resumed our way. 
At the grand Plateau we found the guide who had re- 
turned—and it was here we discovered that our thermome- 
ter was broken. It was exceedingly hot, and we rested only 
a few minutes to gain breath, and refresh ourselves. - Thus 
far the ice and frozen snow had formed a good path—but 
the influence of a sun, now more powerful than I ever felt, 
had melted the snow; and after leaving the Plateau, we 
sunk every third step, nearly to the waist. It was of no 
use,to send the guides to break the way, nor to seek a new 
road—it was immaterial if we followed their track, or made 
one for ourselves—we still sunk. Our progress was further 
interrupted by some crevices that we had not seen in the 
morning—and being wide, with one side higher than the 
other, our ladder was of no use. At these places we sat on 
the snow, and slid down so fast as not to break the frail co- 
vering of the crevice. This was the most fatiguing part of 
the whole journey, and we were happy once more to climb 
the steep sides of the Grand Mulet. ‘The sun had set upon 
the valley, but its rays yet beamed upon our elevated rock 
—its effects had been severely feli—and though scorching 
during the day, it seemed in pity to lend its lingering light 
to shorten the dreariness of the night. 
Fatigue had nearly lulled us to sleep, when thinking on 
the last journey of the morrow, some of the guides turned 
to seethe path by which we had ascended the day before. 
While yet following its traces they saw part of it lost in an 
avalanche—a mass had fallen in, and our road was gone. 
Few and unrefreshing were the hours of our repose—the 
cold was excessive—and some coals in the chafingdish, kepi 
constantly enflamed by the bellows, served to keep us from 
